


All I Want for Christmas is to Not Be Dead

by mandysimo13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Carols, Crack, Drinking, Gen, Karaoke, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam and Castiel celebrate their first Christmas off the job in forever and Dean decides they're going to spend it in a karaoke bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want for Christmas is to Not Be Dead

“So the object is to just sing along, out loud, with the words?”

Cas had a confused scowl on his face directed at the Winchester brothers.

Dean took a swig from his beer and clapped the angel on the back. “That’s right, Cas. You just follow along with the words. And try to carry a tune.” He flashed a toothy grin at Castiel, “You’re an angel. I’m sure you can handle a little singing.”

“I am not a Seraphim, Dean.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t sing.”

Cas exhaled sharply through his nose and applied to Sam for help. “Why am I here? I can’t get drunk, even if I felt like imbibing, and I’m not a singer.” Sam looked across the table at Cas’s annoyed face and held back a smile.

“Because it’s Christmas Eve and we have no jobs, for once no one trying to kill us, and this is the only place open in this town and we deserve some fun down time together.”

“That doesn’t explain why I have to sing.”He motioned to the top of his head where a headband with a halo attached to it sat, “Nor does it explain why I must wear this. Our halos look nothing like this.”

“Because it’s part of the Christmas spirit,” Dean said around a mouthful of burger.

“Sam’s not wearing one. Neither are you.”

“How about because it suits you and I said so? Besides, we can’t all be angels. See,” he pointed to Sam’s head, “Sammy’s got antlers on and I’m going to be Santa.” He gripped the poofball on the end of the Santa hat perched on his head and waved it in Cas’ direction. He shoved a couple fries in his mouth and grinned. “Mostly because I know who’s been naughty and nice. Possibly both.”

“Who is Santa? Why does he know if you are naughty or nice? Is he watching us right now?” Cas looked around the room in the most conspicuous way possible before Dean reached out a hand to clasp his shoulder.

“Santa is a fairytale that people tell their kids.” He elbowed Sam in the ribs. “Why don’t you explain it to him? And be quick, karaoke starts in twenty minutes.” Cas listened attentively as Sam explained the origin of Santa Claus, at least the Americanized version of him, and how he was a way to scare children into behaving themselves on pain of a lump of coal for Christmas.

“But I don’t understand,” Cas gestured with his hands. “Santa wants you to be good and if you are he will give you presents. But if you’re bad he will give you a lump of coal. But breaking into someone’s house, like Santa does by coming down the chimney, is supposed to be bad no matter if you are leaving presents. So is Santa good or bad?”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, he’s a good guy.” He tried to end the conversation by taking a long swallow of beer.

“What did Dean mean that he knew people who were both naughty and nice?”

Sam nearly choked on the beer and Dean dropped a fry that had nearly made it to his mouth.The brothers looked at each other, telepathically yelling at each other to come up with an answer that was less lustful than Dean tended to be. Cas waited in the silence until a voice from the loudspeakers on the bar’s small stage filled the brothers’ silence.

A man on the stage held a microphone and said, “Merry Christmas, folks! How’re we all doin’ tonight?” A subdued cheer went up from the few locals in the bar. Satisfied with the attempt at excitement the man continued. “The stage is now open for karaoke. Now remember, it’s Christmas, so only Christmas songs.” He slipped the microphone into it’s holder on the stand and walked off stage.

“Well boys,” Dean said, rubbing his palms together, “Who’s going first?” When neither Sam nor Cas answered he frowned, “Oh, come on!”

Cas frowned right back, “Warriors don’t sing, Dean.”

“I still have some fries left,” Sam shaking a limp fry at him.

“Fine,” Dean groaned and pushed back from his chair. “I’ll go first. Doesn’t seem like anyone else is tripping over themselves to get up there either. Ya’ll are a bunch of wussies.”

Dean strolled up to the stage and whispered his song selection to the man running the karaoke machine and stepped up to grab the mic. He cleared his throat and waited for the song to begin and as soon as the first few chords started Sam’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, no.”

Cas turned a worried eye to Sam. “What’s wrong?”

“Just listen.”

And then Dean started to sing.

 

 

_It was Christmas Eve babe_

_In the drunk tank_

_An old man said to me, won’t see another one_

_And then he sang a song_

_The Rare Old Mountain Dew_

_I turned my face away and dreamed about you_

 

 

He caught Cas’ eyes in the crowd and nodded his way, smiling and pointing at him as the next stanza started.

 

_Got on a lucky one_

_Came in eighteen to one_

_I’ve got a feeling_

_This year’s for me and you_

_So happy Christmas_ (here Dean pointed at Sam and made an exaggerated face)

_I love you baby_

_I can see a better time_

_When all our dreams come true_

 

The music started to pick up in temp and Dean tapped his foot and nodded along.

_They’ve got cars big as bars_

_They got rivers of gold_

_But the wind goes right through you_

_It’s no place for the old_

_When you first took my hand on that cold Christmas eve_

_You promised me Broadway was waiting for me_

The song scrolled by and Dean smiled broadly, singing his heart out. Then Sam dropped his head onto the table and muttered something that sounded like “Of course that jerk would have to pick this song” and Cas understood Sam’s embarrassment when the rest of the bar joined in the singing.

 

_You’re a bum_

_You’re a punk_

_You’re an old slut on junk_

_You scumbag, you maggot_

_You cheap lousy faggot_

_Happy Christmas your arse_

_I pray God it’s our last_

 

Sam groaned loudly into the table and Dean looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying the look of despair on his brother’s face. When the song ended the crowd applauded and he took a little bow and jumped off the stage. When he slid into his chair Sam looked at him with a face of pure mortification.

“Did you have to pick that song?”

“Come on Sammy! It’s a classic!” When he got no reply other than Sam’s signature “jerk” face he added, “Well if you don’t like my choice why don’t you go do one?”

“I will once the lady on the stage is finished with hers.”

They ordered another round of beers while they listened to the girl on stage sang a drunken, half-assed version of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”. When it was over Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs and pointed to the stage.

“Get your moose-self up there and make me proud.”

“Geez, you’ve been hanging out with Crowley too much. And these aren’t moose antlers. They’re reindeer.” Sam shook his head, reindeer antlers swaying with the movement, and made it over to the stage. After making his selection clear to the DJ he took his place on the stage.

Then the music started and Dean laughed when Sam started singing.

_You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch_

_You really are a heel_

_You’re as cuddly as a cactus_

_You’re as charming as an eel_

_Mr. Grinch!_

_You’re a bad banana with a...greasy black peel_

Sam had adopted a deep, rumbling voice as he sang and Dean was impressed.

“Not bad, baby bro.”

“I’ve heard Sam sing before,” Cas whispered to Dean, eyes locked on the stage where Sam was performing. “Why is he singing like that? That’s not his voice.”

Dean licked his lips, licking away the remnants of a swig of beer. “Because the original singer of the song, Thurl Ravenscroft, had a deep voice. Sam’s trying to emulate it.”

“I see.” Cas furrowed his brow and kept watching the stage as Sam sang.

 

_The three words that best describe you are as follows_

_And I quote:_

_Stink_

_Stank_

_Stunk_

 

“Dean,” Cas’s inquisitive voice sounded in his ear again.

“What now?”

“He just used three words to describe Mr. Grinch as stinky. That makes no sense.”

“Dr. Suess doesn’t have to make sense, Cas.”

Cas turned a confused look to Dean. “But I thought the man was talking about Mr. Grinch? Is Dr. Suess the narrator of the song?”

Dean just shook his head and said, “Never mind. We’ll catch you up on Dr. Suess another time.”

When Sam ended his song, belting out “arsenic sauce” long and loud, he just made a curt bow and walked off stage. He sank into his chair and motioned for a waitress to come by. “Happy now?”

“Very. What are we gonna make Cas sing?”

“Dean,” Cas warned.

“Don’t give me that. If Sam and I can get up there and sing, and every other drunk person in here who can’t carry a tune in a bucket-”

“Why would you carry a tune in a bucket?”

Dean just went right on ignoring the question. “Then you can get up there and sing something too.” He ordered a round of whiskey for Sam and him when the waitress walked up to the table. When she left with their order he refocused on Cas. “Tell you what, you sing one song and you can take the halo off.”

Cas scowled but nodded.

While they waited on their drinks they listened to a couple of guys singing a duet to “Baby it’s Cold Outside”.

“Why would anyone think this is a good song?”

“What’s that, Cas,” Dean asked, accepting a tumbler from their waitress. “The one part of the song implies the singer wants to leave while other part implies that they want the leaving party to stay. But every lyric there’s a new reason to keep the other person from leaving.” He squinted at the two men on stage. “Isn’t that a little creepy?”

“You bet it is,” Sam said, tipping his glass to his lips.

The two-man duet ended and Dean jumped up and motioned for Cas to follow him. “Your turn, big guy. And I know just the song for you.”

He led Cas to the stage and planted him in front of the microphone and pointed to the little screen that stood next to it. “The lyrics for the song will come up on this screen. All you do is read them as they highlight and try not to stumble over the words.” He patted Cas on the back and smiled. “You’ll do great, trust me.”

Dean jumped off the stage and ran over to the DJ and whispered something to him and sauntered back to the table to join Sam.

“You seem too pleased with yourself. What did you pick for him?”

“Nothing vulgar. Trust me.”

“I don’t. You’re smiling too much.” The music started and Sam’s eyes went wide. “You didn’t,” he asked in surprised horror.

“I totally did.” He smiled and crossed his arms, watching Cas on stage with all-encompassing mirth.

“Dean that is not nice!”

“He won’t get it. Plus, I feel like I’m owed after all the shit we’ve been through.”

Cas stared at the screen, brows stitched together, mouth hovering just above the mic. And then he started to sing in his gruff voice.

 

 

_Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree_

_For me_

_Been an awful good girl_ \- “Dean I am not a girl!”

 

Booing started from the bar and Dean yelled to the crowd, “Hey shut it! It’s his first time and you all suck anyway!” He turned back to Cas and said, “Just keep singing!”

 

_I’ll wait up for you baby_

_So hurry down the chimney tonight_

 

_Think of all the fun I’ve missed_

_Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed_

_Next year I could be just as good, if you’ll just check off my Christmas list_

 

_Santa baby, I want a yacht and really that’s not a lot_

_Been an angel all year_ \- Dean I’ve been an angel for millennia!

 

Someone threw a plastic cup towards the stage and Dean stood up and pointed into the crowd. “Hey! I said knock it off! Let him finish!” He looked at Cas and smiled at him and motioned for him to continue and Cas rolled his eyes and picked the song up again.

 

 

_Santa cutie, and fill my stockings with a duplex and checks_

_Sign your X on the line, Santa baby_

_And hurry down the chimney tonight_

 

 

Cas finished out the song and stepped off the stage without and applause and without acknowledging the crowd and stomped over to his seat. “Can I take the halo off now?”

“Yes you can. Well done.”

“Well done,” Sam scoffed. “You almost incited a mob! Why couldn’t you pick something he’d get? Like “Come All Ye Faithful” or something?”

“Because this was more fun.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Cas rolled his eyes and took off the halo and dropped it on the table. “You guys are weird.” And then he was gone, disappearing in a heartbeat, leaving Sam and Dean alone.

“Think you made him mad,” Sam teased.

“He’ll get over it.” He finished his whiskey and motioned for the waitress to bring them another round. “Besides. It’s Christmas and that was my gift to me.” When the waitress came back with fresh glasses he held up his in salute to Sam. “Here’s to the first uneventful Christmas in too goddamned long.”

Sam tipped his glass to Dean’s, clinking them together toast. “I’ll drink to that.”

They each took a sip then Dean put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, rubbing it affectionately. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

They closed out the bar, booing bad singers and cheering the good ones along with the rest of the patrons. When they stumbled back to their hotel room a thin layer of snow covered the ground. As they plopped down into the worn mattresses Dean smiled to himself, finally being able to say he was able to give Sam a good Christmas.

Even if it did involve torturing Cas.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs that I chose for the boys were as follows:
> 
> Dean - "Fairytale of New York" by The Pogues  
> Sam - "Mr. Grinch" sung by Thurl Ravenscroft  
> Castiel - "Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! As always comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
